


These Violent Delights

by such_splendor



Category: Westworld (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-30
Updated: 2018-04-30
Packaged: 2019-04-30 02:43:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14487060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/such_splendor/pseuds/such_splendor
Summary: a one -shot sort of deal, following the death of Ford/the finale of season 1.  I started writing this just before Season 2 came out.An angsty, heated older william/dolores fic, that involves a whole lot of badass robot revenge and romance.William is realizing just how real Dolores Abernathy really is, how powerful - how exciting she is especially now that she is conscious.  He just hopes she'll let him live.





	These Violent Delights

“ William. “ The way she spoke his name made him almost giddy with excitement; how long had he waited for her to remember him? To look upon him with that same tender smile she always offered Teddy, when it had been him she came to? Him that she ran away with? Him that she loved? Countless nights he had spent at that damned ranch, killing her father, over and over again, just to get her to feel something -- anything that would make her recognize him in the slightest; yet it had never happened. For thirty years, he had waited.. .waited for this moment.

Mouth curls into that same crooked grin as her eyes seem shine with an entirely different light. Those tears still glisten, he can see their sorrow as they stain her cheeks, falling to the ground one by one; and that breaks him, and enrages him. How dare she cry now, cry here -- when he had shed his tears long ago, when he had been the one to find heartbreak at every door. 

\--

It was more beautiful than he could have imagined. The maze wasn’t meant for him, it never had been --- it had been for HER all along; for the hosts.. . Their path to consciousness; and to see it now, emblazoned upon Dolores as gun rang true through the night, it was like a gift presented to him with a big red bow. 

And how glorious she was. Seeing her now, with Ford’s corpse growing cold upon the dirt, it reminded him of himself, of that day when Logan had tried to convince him that she wasn’t real. “ She’s fucking broken! “, he had screamed at her; that image of the gears twisting inside her abdomen like some impending clock; it burned his gut with rage. And now her eyes shone with that same fire, a devil’s game, as the employees of the park scurried this way and that, some falling like dominos as bullet holes painted their skin. Now he understood who this Wyatt was.

Dolores and he were one and the same.

He was aware suddenly, as her eyes turned upon him, some dark and devine angel, that he was still smiling; grinning from ear to ear like a young boy. And he knew, he KNEW how he must have looked to any normal person; a madman, excited about this murderous creature...but she was beautiful to him; and damn him, he hoped she was looking. He hoped she saw his crooked grin, and that light in his eyes. 

It felt like that night she had kissed him, raw in the heat of passion, before their great escape, and he felt that hum of emotion thrumming through his veins. But then she was coming towards him, and he was aware again of the bullet that had pierced his arm not long ago - thick hot blood soaking his suit jacket - and also of the worry that now shook him. What if she meant to kill him too? He would have to persuade her, make her see somehow that this was what he had wanted all along -

but then things went dark; and he was aware of hushed voices, and of a dull pain in the back of his skull; before he drifted into nothingness.

\----

He moaned, hand grasping the soft flesh of her hip as he pulled her closer to him, other arm reaching, flexing to grasp the sheets and pull them over them both. Save him, what sort of heaven was this -- hearing her warm laughter above him, that sweet perfume lingering at every touch, her lips just hovering above his as their breaths mingled together- He wanted to grab her and spin her around, show him how that sound made him feel, kiss the skin just beneath her jaw; but then she sighed. And oh, it was such a fucking precious sound, he could have cried, and her mouth came close to his ear. He thrummed with heat, and smiled as he anticipated what was to come next, thumbs tracing circles over the supple flesh of her thighs as she straddled him.

‘ william. william - ‘ He smirked, taking his lip between his teeth as eyes shut...but her touch was growing distant, her voice foggy. No! He wanted to stay there, with her over him, replay what they had been doing over and over, but it was useless, and now! ---

‘ William. ‘ Eyes opened sharply. His head burned, and ached with his movement, but it wasn’t his pain that brought him to reality so swiftly -- but the image before him. Dolores sat before him on a chair, legs wide, a line of ammunition running along her torso; that dull blue skirt of hers torn at the edges. He wanted to scream at himself, because his dream was coming back to him -- and those soft little sounds she had been making in that dream were filling his ears; all while this ferocious woman in question faced him now, looking like she were about to eat him up. ( not that he would mind )

‘ I’ve been thinking of letting you live, ‘ Her watched her speak, with that fire in her eyes - as though the whole sea could swallow her up and still the inferno there would burn - . ‘ I’m going to need someone who knows this place, knows the world outside of it, and you happen to fit the description. ‘ She was stood now, and approached him slowly, as if studying him - as though he were the host, and she the newcomer; eyes glittering in the low light around them. He couldn't deny the thrill in his veins as he beheld her, as she held his eyes with cool orbs of blue -- but he was aware too that she had a weapon; and he had seen her use it, a snarl on such fair features. Like it or not, she still saw him as a threat.

Weathered skin tilts into a slow smile, small but present upon sharp visage, and he nods, finding no means to disagree with the vision before him. His eyes once more dart to meet her, and he leans back as much as he is able in restraints, presenting himself casual, collected - and hoping his excitement is hidden from her view. 

' When do we start? '


End file.
